I found a home in the air with the female vocalist, moving my feet to the little dances inside of me. The vocalist had that same sort of comfort as kisses down the back of your neck, and I've searched for her flaming red hair and pale skin everywhere. She was isolated, she was away from the crowd. Her name wasn't listed on the set list. I've searched. She didn't have an identity, as Briseis no longer had an identity after being stolen from Lyrnessus. At the other end of the tunnel of light, the red-haired lady walked towards a glowing exit sign. Walking with her was a DJ dressed in religious Sikh robes and a turban. I could only assume they were walking into the ten-degree winter air with the intention to share a cigarette. I wanted to ask them if they felt free? They must know what home is if they are wanderers like me.